


Sick Days and Other Lies

by toseekandfind



Category: Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: My first fanfic so be nice to me, Peter Parker's Field Trip to Stark Industries, tony stark is a father figure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2019-10-29
Packaged: 2021-01-08 05:08:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21230300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toseekandfind/pseuds/toseekandfind
Summary: Midtown High is going on a field trip to Stark Industries and Peter Parker will not be attending. That is, he thinks he won't be, but everything in the world seems to be against him. It's hard leading a double life before you're old enough to vote!





	Sick Days and Other Lies

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading my first fanfic! This is dedicated to five nerds in Atlanta and Huntsville, and the way they're always able to fill the "space between". Enjoy.

Peter was walking across the stage to receive his Nobel Prize in Physics, smiling at the crowd with warm pride bursting his chest. Or at least, he was, until he woke surrounded by the familiar graying wallpaper of his room and the overwhelming sense that something wasn’t right. His eyes scanned the small room and landed on the green slip of paper on his desk. _Oh, right_, Peter remembered with a sigh. He knew exactly what that paper held, as he had read it enough times to memorize it.

MIDTOWN HIGH FIELD TRIP TO STARK TOWER

On October 24th, your student will have the chance to tour Stark Tower, the home of Stark Industries!

Please sign your permission below. Bring a bagged lunch!

X_________________

The line sat blank even on this morning of October 24th because Peter was in a predicament. All the kids at school knew about his “internship” at Stark Industries, but he knew there were some that didn’t believe it. And the truth was, the employees at Stark Industries really wouldn’t recognize Peter Parker. Because the full truth- that he was Spider-Man and worked directly with Mr. Stark and the Avengers- was even more unbelievable, and proving it to his classmates was not worth putting himself and his loved ones in danger. Even if it would feel amazing to pull his mask off in front of Flash Thompson-- Spider-Man’s most loyal fanboy and Peter’s most loyal pain in the ass.

Peter was pulled out of his thoughts by Aunt May knocking at his door. Well, pounding would be more accurate, since a knock was rarely enough to wake the overworked teenager-slash-superhero. “Peter! Your bus comes in 15 minutes and you have to get up and get your shoes on and try these amazing egg white bites I just made, seriously, just like at Starbucks-”

“I’m not going to school today, Aunt May,” Peter called into his pillow, “I’m feeling pretty sick.” There it was, the master plan that took Peter all week to come up with. But then again, maybe the idea of pulling the school fire alarm and running really fast would have worked better. If only he could schedule an invasion of aliens with a desperate need for a patented Spider-Man-style ass-kicking.

Aunt May entered the room with a face full of concern. “You’re sick?” Peter nodded as feeble as he could muster, trying to summon the mannerisms of a small British orphan, who perhaps hasn’t been given enough porridge. “I’m all messed up, Aunt May. My head, my stomach, you don’t even want to know what’s going on in the bathroom-”

“Oh, honey,” Aunt May cooed, “I’ll call the clinic.” Peter relaxed into a smile. Aunt May’s soothing voice could make him forget that he carried the safety of New Yorkers on his narrow shoulders. _Sometimes literally_, he mused, as he remembered hauling passengers out of that subway car after Doc Ock’s latest experiment gone wrong. Or rather, gone right, if you were a homicidal maniac scientist who _wanted_ a bunch of killer Roombas loose on the red line.

Wait, did Aunt May say clinic?

She had already dialed when Peter sprung into action, launching out of his bed. “No, Aunt May, I’m feeling so much better already, look, I’m out of bed and everything!” Peter begged, voice thin with stress. May shushed him and held her ear to the old landline, possibly the last surviving one in the whole apartment building. “Uh-huh? Yes, Parker. P-A-R-K-E-R. Okay, he’ll be there in thirty minutes. Thanks so much.” May clicked the phone back into the receiver with a satisfied smile. “Now, I’m sorry to send you alone on the bus when you’re sick, but I’ve got to get to work.”

“Aunt May, it’s really not all that bad. I mean, it’s not even worth the doctor’s bill, it’s probably just a cold.” Peter negotiated, following Aunt May out of his room and into the small kitchen. “Oh, don’t be ridiculous,” May countered, “Mr. Stark has told me a million times that we can use the Stark Tower clinic for free whenever we need.”

She shoved an egg white bite into Peter’s mouth before he could scream.

***

Thirty-two. That’s how many escape plans Peter came up with during the 15 minute bus ride. And yet, the young genius couldn’t come up with a single one that didn’t end in an incriminating call to Aunt May. He sighed and let his head loll forward against the bus window, halfheartedly hoping that the vibration would knock loose the perfect plan from his scattered mind. If he could just get to the clinic without passing the tour group, he could receive his clean bill of health and report back to Aunt May that night with tale of some fast-passing virus. How hard is it to avoid thirty twelfth-graders in a building with 43 floors?

Peter stepped off the bus into the kind of October air where you can just barely see your breath. He gave a cursory glance around, and immediately dove behind a bush. The bus had pulled away to reveal another bus in front of Stark Towers: one that was less comfortable, more yellow, and the source of the growing crowd of Peter’s classmates piling onto the sidewalk. Peter shifted nervously, the scratchy bush leaving thin white lines on his exposed skin as his classmates passed him on their way to the building’s entrance. A snarky voice rose over the clamor of teens and made Peter’s stomach drop.

“I told you he wouldn’t come,” Flash Thompson gloated as he took the stairs two at a time, “He’s been lying about the internship the whole time.” His voice trailed off as he walked through the glass entryway. “Once I get my hands on that loser, I’ll…” _What_, Peter finished in his mind, _push me against a locker while I pretend I couldn’t break every bone in your stupid body?_ Peter thought about this a lot. If he were built like Flash, he could afford to fight back without arousing any suspicion. But the combination of Peter’s slight build and unbelievable strength was a contradiction that he couldn’t risk the wrong person witnessing. That, and Aunt May had given him lecture after lecture about nonviolence ever since she listened to her latest self-help audiobook, _The Power of Peaceful Negotiation: How to Win your Battles with Friendships and Not Fists_. Radioactive super-fists were likely even more out of the question.

Peter tried to focus on the task at hand as the last of his classmates entered Stark Tower. Pulling his hoodie low over his eyes, he slipped through the glass doors with as much spider-grace as he could muster despite his heart pounding in his chest. What’s scarier to a high-schooler than a subway car full of killer Roombas? Total. Social. Alienation. Which is what was bound to happen if the other kids caught him creeping around the place like some second-rate cat burglar.

Peter made a beeline for the elevator and slipped in next to a woman in a pantsuit, who watched him push the close door button furiously and sigh with relief as the elevator lifted off. She appraised his hoodie-and-jeans outfit with disdain. “You do know that Casual Friday is tomorrow, right?” Her eyes widened with realisation. “Wait, are you lost from the school group? I can help you, let me just call-” “No!” Peter answered too loudly and too quickly. The woman recoiled slightly. “No,” he softened, “Sorry, I’m just here for the clinic. I’m an intern, my name is Peter Parker.” “Well, Peter Parker,” the woman stepped off the elevator with a sly smile, “You’re going to want floor 22, not 21.” Peter rushed to hit the correct floor button. “I work here!” he called unconvincingly through the closing elevator doors. Tinny elevator music drowned out Peter cursing under his breath.

***

Peter was waiting for the nurse to come back, seated on an uncomfortable doctor’s table lined with starchy white paper. He grew bored and leaned back against the wall with a sigh, closing his eyes.

“...nonsense, I was in charge of the clinic redesign and would love to show the kiddos around.” Peter jolted upright when he recognized the familiar voice. A woman answered, stumbling over her rushed words, “A-are you sure? We don’t usually show the clinic on the tours, but-but we can do anything you want, of course.” Peter hadn’t formulated a single escape plan when Tony Stark came around the corner, leading the band of high schoolers and a young, starstruck tour guide. “Ah! What a surprise!” Tony’s voice boomed as he made his way to Peter and clapped him on the shoulder. He lowered his voice to a fearful whisper to address the boy. “Wait, you’re not germy, are you? The last thing I need right now is some snot-fest, I’ve gotta be in the workshop all night working on these new repulsors.” Peter shook his head slowly, still dazed.

“Great,” Tony turned back towards the crowd. “I’m sure you all know Peter, one of my most promising interns- well, you might not know him, since he’s in the advanced class.” Flash somehow managed to simultaneously sneer and look like an eager fanboy in the presence of Tony Stark. “Mr. Stark, this _is_ the advanced class,” he announced with a proud lift of his chin. “Huh, weird,” Tony answered, “But with that question you asked earlier about the rocket boosters… well, it doesn’t matter. I guess you’re lucky enough to know my intern.” He turned back towards the group. “Now, I don’t condone cheating, but if you guys are ever next to this kid during a test-” Tony’s voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper, “-_his is the paper to look at_.” He finished with a wink. Flash no longer looked like he was seconds away from asking for an autograph, and now looked like he was about to emit steam out of his nose and make a sound like a tea kettle. He met Peters eyes and squeezed his fists at his sides. Peter smiled.

Tony Stark ushered the teens into the next room of the clinic. “Here you’ll see our state of the art X-ray room. _The_ Bruce Banner has used this before, when he got a little too smashy before he was all the way Hulk-y…”

***

A few minutes later, Tony reentered Peter’s room alone. He sat in a chair in front of the young hero and furrowed his brow in concern. “So,” Tony said seriously, “Your Aunt May told me there was some trouble in the bathroom?” Peter groaned and slapped his hands over his face, but when he pulled his hands away he was laughing. Tony grinned too, but quickly became serious again. “This was about the field trip, right? And that Flash kid.” Peter breathed in sharply. “Oh, don’t look so surprised,” Tony chastised, “You know I read your Finstagram.” Peter laughed again, rolling his eyes and leaning away from Tony, “Are you serious, Dad? I mean, that’s not even what it’s called-”

His laughter stopped suddenly as he realized what he had just said. “I am so sorry-” Peter mumbled, “I didn’t mean to-” Tony cut him off with a gentle hand on his knee, “It’s okay kid, don’t go into cardiac arrest about it.” His soft smile saddened. “Listen, my father was a great man. But he was not a good one. He didn’t… fill the role that most fathers do. I figured that kind of ass-ery was genetic, so I never wanted to have biological kids. Well, that and I’m pretty busy blasting the shit out of super villains with my laser hands in a robot suit.” Peter nodded agreeably. “The point is,” Tony trucked on, “Jarvis filled that role for me. And I know you have Aunt May, and she’s amazing, and way too hot to be a single guardian-”

“_Gross_,” Peter whispered with feeling. Tony continued as if he hadn’t heard him, “-but if there’s any part of that role I can fill for you, like, as your mentor...then that’s what I want to do.” He stood up before Peter could answer, slapping his knees with a sense of finality. “Well! That should be enough emotional vulnerability for the next several lifetimes. I’ve got to get back to the workshop, I’m doing some work on the new repulsors for my suit. I’m incorporating a stronger electromagnet, to increase the repulsion threshold current.” With each word Peter’s eyes grew larger and he practically leaned off of the table, all embarrassment forgotten. “You’re using electromagnets to achieve a high repulsion threshold current, without detrimental heat build-up?”

Tony yawned. “Yep. Pretty boring stuff. Plus, it’s a school day, so no need for you to come down to the workshop with me. Sayonara.” He threw up a peace sign and strolled out the clinic doors. Peter deflated. “O-okay, Mr. Stark. See you later.” Before he could manage his disappointment and head home, Tony popped his head back in the doorway, mumbling. “For a genius, you can’t even- I’m obviously joking, kid. Follow me.” With that, Peter sprang to his feet and ran after the man, thinking, _t__his is the best sick day that I’ve ever had_.

***


End file.
